


yours for a thousand lives

by atlantisairlock



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Spoilers, True Love's Kiss, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: There is no wedding. Alstead rebuilds, and both Aurora and Maleficent are there to see it.Set right at the end of Maleficent: Mistress of Evil.





	yours for a thousand lives

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【翻译】yours for a thousand lives](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131933) by [R_H_Felidae_Athena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_H_Felidae_Athena/pseuds/R_H_Felidae_Athena)

> r_h_felidae_athena has translated this fic into chinese! you can take a look [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131933)! 
> 
> title from 'for you' by rita ora.

On the day that will one day come to be known as the day of Reckoning, there is no wedding. A kingdom has come periliously close to fighting an unjust war, deaths are aplently amongst both ranks, and one of the royal family has been (temporarily) turned into a goat. It is, as Maleficent quite agrees, not exactly the atmosphere one would desire for the union of two souls in eternal devotion. Phillip is still reeling at his mother’s betrayal and working with Percival to tend to his men, and Maleficent can only watch as Thistlewit and Knotgrass place a bright blue flower in Aurora’s hands - can only watch as Aurora breaks down in tears as they explain Flittle’s noble sacrifice.

Already, the seeds of an enduring peace are being sown. Human and fae alike are scattered around the castle grounds, giving aid to the injured, making no distinction between their race. Something great has been gained today. Maleficent knows it.

And she also knows, better than most, what sacrifice that has needed to take.

She barely dares to go close to Aurora, to bend down beside her as she sobs, the flower cupped in her hands. One massive wing wraps around her small frame, and Aurora looks up at her, grief written into every inch of her face. “It’s all my fault,” she whispers, voice breaking at the end. “It’s my fault she - they - are _gone.”_

“The only one here to blame is Ingrith,” Maleficent says, gentle but firm. She will not have Aurora shoulder that burden, not for anything. Aurora shakes her head, the tears continuing to come. “I should have known. I should have trusted _you.”_

_So should I, _Maleficent thinks, but does not trust herself to say. Instead she lets Aurora fall into her embrace and work through the horror and the guilt. There will be time, later, for plans and apologies and thoughts of the future. For now, she is alive, and so is the most precious thing in her universe, and that is more than she could ever have asked for.

It is but hours after, when all who are able are working to bring normality back to the kingdom with Phillip at the helm, that Maleficent draws on the magic she possesses and tries to undo the evil that has been inflicted on the land. She thinks of Conall and his last breaths; of the moment she felt herself fading into nothingness when Ingrith’s bolt struck her in the back; of Aurora’s tear-stained face and her proclamations of guilt. She thinks of the inhabitants of the Moors, trapped in the church, and the attacking fae, turning to dust in the skies. She was brought back from the dead, a phoenix from the ashes. She broke a curse that no power on earth could change. Surely she can do this.

She fills herself to the brim with her magic, lets it flow and flood her mind, and pushes it out into the universe with but one goal in mind.

_Bring them back._

_Bring them back._

_Bring them back._

The sun dips, night falls, the stars come alive, and she is on her knees, exhausted, sapped to her bones, and Maleficent has always known that there are things even the greatest magics or the truest love cannot accomplish, but it is still almost too much to bear.

With the last vestiges of her strength she flies to the balcony of Aurora’s room, where the queen stands and looks down upon the destruction still remaining on the grounds, to be cleared and repaired the next morning, for as long as it takes, until Alstead returns to its former glory once more. She stands before her, and Maleficent knows the anguish and sorrow in Aurora’s eyes are mirrored in her own.

“I tried,” she begins, the words coming out stiff, hoarse. Maleficent inhales, wishing she could say anything else - anything else but this. “I tried to bring them back. I swear it.”

Aurora inclines her head in a gesture of acknowledgment. “Thank you, Maleficent,” she answers, soft and steady, with no bitterness in it at all. It aches, she thinks, more than her anger would have. Maleficent steps closer, reaching for Aurora’s hand and clasping it tight. “I am sorry, Aurora. Truly, I am.”

Her queen’s chin is lifted, sure, unwavering. “We will remember them, and honour them, and in the name of their sacrifices, we will broker a peace that will last for eternity.”

“That no power on earth can change,” says Maleficent, with the barest hint of a smile on her face. Aurora manages a soft laugh, eyes bright in the darkness. “Yes,” she agrees. “That no power on earth can change.”

A new day begins, as it always does, and some things change, and others do not. And such is how the world has always been.

It is not just the castle grounds that have suffered damage from the battle, and though most of the lands beyond it have not suffered ruin and destruction from the attacks by the soldiers nor the fae, the people are still terrified, still wary. For all the promises Phillip or Aurora or even Borra or Maleficent make, it will take time to engender true peace, and for everything to return to the way it once was, or better.

Some of the fae return to the cave after but one night of rest, unwilling to leave those back home alone for longer than necessary. Borra and most of his retinue remain with those still too injured to make the flight, as well as to eventually speak of relations with the human realm. John goes out to speak with the common people and give them the true account of Ingrith’s treachery and the battle, while Phillip and Percival lead the efforts to clean up and begin rebuilding. Aurora charges Maleficent with bringing all the Moorfolk safely home and getting them settled back in and helping them deal with the horrors they experienced in Alstead at Ingrith’s and Gerda’s hands. It is not as daunting a task as expected - the Moorfolk have always excelled at coming together in times of crisis, and taking care of each other. It is not the first time they have known loss and suffering. They have survived, and they will again.

With the kingdom beginning to take shape once more, Maleficent awaits news of the wedding, for surely they cannot put it off far too long. Were Aurora and Phillip not crowing about it far too much than she liked? Was Alstead not completely enamoured by the upcoming nuptials? She would never admit it, but despite all that has happened, the ache in her chest remains at the thought of watching Aurora be married. She has learned respect and regard for Phillip, knows him now to be a truly good man, who will make an generous, fair and compassionate king in time to come - but the fact still remains that he will one day take Aurora from her, and that will never be something she can truly comfortably bear.

A week passes, and then two. Diaval makes daily trips across the river and returns with updates on what has been speedily rebuilt and the names of the men and fae who are recovering and returning to their duties - but nothing of a wedding. He speaks of Phillip in common dress, working alongside his soldiers to put brick after brick back into its proper place; of Aurora making rounds in the castle infirmary, speaking gentle words to those still healing from their wounds, and eventually Maleficent can take it no more.

It is Phillip she goes to first - Phillip who she questions, now with less suspicion and more respect, but still a touch of wariness. She does not ask of the wedding, and neither does he, but instead, a far simpler question. “Do you love Aurora?”

“With everything I have,” he promptly responds, and there is no doubting his sincerity and honesty, and yet. Maleficent is not witless enough that she does not see something deeper in his eyes - a sort of resigned, yet accepting understanding. Something not found in the eyes of a man who knows that the object of his affections loves him back. Maleficent thinks of telling Aurora _no, _back on the Moors; of demanding she come home with her, demanding she choose between her and _them, _and it feels as if the guilt will devour her whole.

But she has made mistakes before, grievous ones; she has also fixed them. She can fix this one, as well. She makes her way to Aurora’s balcony and receives her enthusiastic welcome with pleasure, and then speaks far more directly than she had to Phillip. Aurora makes no bones about her answer. “There will be no wedding,” she states crisply, without uncertainty. “And there will not be one for an indefinite time.”

“Aurora,” says Maleficent, trying to show that all that was said or implied about Phillip, before, no longer stands true. “He is a good man.” 

Aurora smiles. “He is,” she agrees, and reaches for Maleficent’s hand, giving it one gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to her side. “But it takes more than that for love.” With that, she will say nothing more, preferring instead to ask about how the Moorfolk have been coping, and sharing about how Alstead is settling once more and how talks will soon ensue to build an enduring peace between the lands. “A new world, where no human nor fae will ever have to fear again,” promises Aurora, with a faith that could move mountains. “We will make it happen, Maleficent. I know it.”

“I believe there is nothing you could not do,” Maleficent says, and means every single word.

Aurora is true to her word - every bit of it. There is no wedding, but there are talks, many for which Maleficent’s presence is kindly requested. She joins the likes of John and Phillip, of Borra and Shrike and Udo and Ini, and of course, Aurora. There are serious discussions about the challenges the fae have been facing for years on end, and concerns shared by the Moorfolk, and suggestions for forging true peace between races that have been warring for centuries.

“It will be hard to change some minds,” warns Shrike. “For all the rising talks of peace, there are still fae who cannot forgive the cruelties that have been inflicted on our people - who will hold their anger and hatred for a long time to come.”

“But of course, and we understand,” Phillip replies, and it is to everyone’s great relief that he sounds like he does. He meets Shrike’s eyes, and then Borra’s, and Udo’s, and Ini’s, in turn. “I swear to your people that we will do all we can to prove that true peace is possible. Never again will we meet on opposite sides of a battlefield - we shall be allies.”

“We shall be friends,” John adds, and even Borra smiles at that, something small but genuine. Aurora matches it, wide and bright enough to make Maleficent’s heart hurt. “Friends,” she agrees, meeting Maleficent’s eyes from across the table. “For always.” She speaks it for all to hear, but in that moment, it sounds almost like a promise - for her and for her alone.

A month after the events of the day of Reckoning, Aurora is officially crowned queen of Alstead, in light of its previous queen being duly tried and executed for unforgivable crimes against the realm (after Maleficent finally deigned to transform her back from being a goat, of course). Still no wedding is forthcoming, making the decision most unusual - but as John declares, it is most unusual that there are fae openly walking the streets of Alstead side by side with humanfolk, and surely times are changing, and many other traditions can change along with them. John and Phillip continue to adminster most of Alstead, and Aurora’s role falls largely to be an ambassador between the kingdom and the Moors. Maleficent erects a sturdy bridge across the river that Aurora comes to frequent, moving to and from the Moors with ease. The latter journey is taken far too often, in Maleficent’s opinion, but she knows Aurora’s role is an important one. She knows Aurora speaks to each and every one of the Moorfolk, knows their names and their personalities and their concerns, which even Maleficent cannot lay claim to. She knows Aurora acts as their voice when politics is discussed in Alstead’s castle. She is loved, and respected, and _needed. _Maleficent could not take her from it if she wanted to.

And oh, how she does, some days. How she wants Aurora, smiling, laughing careless and uncaring, light on her feet, dancing through the tall grasses without any weight on her shoulders; Aurora returning to her side every night, instead of traveling to the far reaches of the kingdom to understand the citizens those in the city rarely get to see; Aurora safe in her arms, and Maleficent falling asleep to the steady thud of her beating heart, knowing that none could take Aurora away from her ever again, not even herself.

She is no fool, and she understands the whims and patterns of the humans far better than Aurora imagines she does. For all her steadfast claims, it is inevitable. It may take another year, or two, or ten, but Maleficent knows it is only a matter of time before Aurora returns once more with news of a proposal, all over again, and an engagement - true and unbarred, this time, ending with a wedding. The fairytale ending for her beautiful, brilliant girl, with the requisite prince and thriving kingdom and loyal subjects.

Maleficent will have to let her go.

And she knows, without a doubt, that she will never truly make her peace with that. Knows that part of her will always want to hold Aurora close - closer than any other on the earth and beyond it. But she has survived so much more - has escaped the clutches of death itself. If it puts a smile on Aurora’s face, then she will walk through an endless hell of brimstone and iron for all of eternity, if that is what she has to do. There could never be an alternative.

The days go by, and Maleficent remains on the Moors. Summons to the other side of the river come less and less frequently; unsurprising, as tensions have simmered to a state of near non-existence, and by some miracle it seems that human and fae alike are truly committed to living in harmony for the rest of her days. Maleficent contents herself with adminstering to the Moors, and trying not to worry as Aurora continues dividing her time between all the different people who need her. It is terribly hard, every time Maleficent watches her go, and though she thinks it ought to, it never does get easier letting her leave. It is only with the knowledge that she _will _come back that Maleficent lets her go at all. But she knows all too well - there could be no justification for clipping Aurora’s wings. Not for anything, and never on her word.

Diaval continues to fly where he pleases, bringing home a daily report every day without fail. As time passes the reports begin to blend together - there is harmony, there is amity, the new world Aurora promised has truly come to pass, and it seems things can only get better with time. Though the fae largely still remain in their caves, and the Moorfolk in the Moors, and the humans in their realm, movement between the lands has increased sharply, as has tolerance, acceptance, true friendship. 

All is well.

And still, no news of an official union to truly seal Aurora’s title as queen to a king. Maleficent would be concerned - thinks sometimes that she ought more to be - but things are wonderful. She now gets to live a peace she never thought she would ever have again. She thinks she would be happy for everything to remain as it is, and to never give Aurora away. These are blessings she will not count. This is a state of affairs she will hold on to, and pretend for as long as she can that they will truly last forever.

Three days before the first anniversary of the day of Reckoning, Diaval returns from his daily jaunt in Alstead and announces, “I bring news of impending nuptials.”

Maleficent sits up straight, on full alert at once, steadfastly ignoring the twist in her chest, the way her breath seems to catch. “So they have finally decided that the time is right?”

“Oh, no, no,” Diaval responds, in a tone bordering on tedium. “Not Phillip and Aurora, mistress.” Maleficent sighs and immediately leans back where she sits, relief and irritation and confusion coursing over her all at once. “Then it is of little consequence. But pray tell, who _is _getting married, Diaval?”

Of all the answers he could give, Maleficent most certainly does not expect this one. “These are the nuptials of Phillip and the fae Shrike, mistress, and you are most cordially invited.”

She’ll never admit it, on pain of death, but Maleficent quite nearly topples off the tree in which she is perched. She grabs on tight to a branch, narrowing her eyes at Diaval and keeping her voice low and dangerous. “If this is some asinine attempt at jest, Diaval… _who is getting married?”_

“I _said_, Phillip and Shrike,” Diaval retorts, looking gravely insulted. “If you do not believe me, you may fly over to Alstead to speak with him yourself.”

“Oh, I may, may I?” Maleficent says, grim, unfolding her wings. “There will certainly be a great deal to speak about.” She pauses, giving Diaval another long glance. “Aurora. What has she said of this union?”

“The queen informs you that you may fly over to Alstead to speak with her yourself.”

Maleficent raises an eyebrow. Diaval is unmoved - it looks quite certain he truly is acting with Aurora’s direction. Well, then.

To Alstead.

Undignified as it is, she is sincerely and exceedingly irate by the time she reaches Aurora’s dwellings in the castle, having spent most of the flight trying to understand what could _possibly _have happened in the span of a year for Phillip to divest of his relationship with Aurora and take up with Shrike instead. She has no argument with Shrike, or any of the fae; it will remain to be seen if there is a fight to be had with Phillip.

But first, Aurora (always first, Aurora). Aurora, who stands at her balcony, cutting a familiar figure, eyes bright and dry and looking like she has been expecting her. Maleficent touches down gently in front of her and Aurora smiles in genial greeting. “I thought you would come.”

“Diaval has delivered an absurd piece of gossip he pretends to be true,” she says, cutting straight to the point. Aurora raises her eyebrows, corners of her lips turning up in a small smile. “It is no gossip. It is the sterling truth.”

_“Aurora,”_ says Maleficent, taking another step closer with barely a thought about it. “For goodness sake, what has happened between you both? You were to be _married _but a year ago. You would have been if not for Ingrith’s treachery. Has Phillip been enchanted? Have you both taken leave of your senses?”

“I assure you it is nothing as unspeakable as that,” Aurora answers briskly, and it is utterly beyond Maleficent how she does not sound in the least perturbed about the whole turn of events. “It would forge a greater alliance between Alstead and the fae - but more importantly, he loves her, and she would be glad to take him as her husband.”

Maleficent shakes her head, adamant, disbelieving. “He loves you. He told me himself - _with everything he has." _

Aurora’s gaze is impossibly soft, stirring something uncertain and unnamed in Maleficent she tries, badly, to ignore. “Things change, Maleficent. And Phillip is not so stupid as to spend a lifetime wanting something he cannot have.”

_And yet I could, _the thought flashes across Maleficent’s mind - desperate, grasping, aching, her eyes fixed on beautiful, brave Aurora, her stomach turning over, her voice tight in her throat. She cannot speak, and Aurora simply continues, saying her words as if she is speaking of the weather. “Phillip knows I love another.”

She cannot hope. She has lost too much for that. Everything she has gained in this past year - stability, honour, truth, forgiveness, peace - all of it, for the rest of her life, could not make up for it. If she lets herself hope, in this moment, and the words that leave Aurora’s mouth are not what she wants so badly to hear, she will fall and break and never be whole again. She has never been so sure of anything as she is of that.

But still, unbidden, she speaks. “In heaven’s name, Aurora - _who?”_

And Aurora moves to close the distance between them, so close Maleficent can hear, _feel _her heart beating, her breaths coming short and quick. “Maleficent,” she murmurs, meeting her gaze, never blinking, and Aurora has said her name before, hundreds of times, thousands, but never like this. “Do you _truly _not know?”

She knows, now. It is like her eyes have been closed her entire life, and now she finally can see. Her voice trembles like it never has before. It is selfish, to ask this of Aurora, when she has already taken so much - but she needs it. She can do nothing until she hears it from Aurora herself. “Tell me.” 

Aurora smiles, beatific, as she always has been - capturing Maleficent’s heart, making it her own, always. “I would rather show you,” she whispers, and leans in, up, brushes her lips to Maleficent’s and holds a kiss - without fear, without hesitation. Maleficent is under no curse, but perhaps true love’s kiss can do so much more than simply end them. The world, it seems, finally makes sense - in the light of this. A love that will last until the end of time - a love which no power on earth could change.

“You are sure?” Maleficent asks, when Aurora pulls away to smile at her and rest a palm against her cheek. “As I have never been of anything else in my life.” She reaches for Maleficent’s hand, tangling their fingers together, tentative. “Tell me you will be with me. Tell me you will be mine.”

And truly, Maleficent thinks, Aurora has never needed to ask. Not in this. For Maleficent has never been anything else, and now, she knows, she never will be again.

She could ask for no better fairytale ending.


End file.
